When Gavroche Comes to Visit...
by Ela
Summary: Err, it's fixed. I never thought I'd write one of these!


Eer, sorry 'bout the "lack of paragraphs" before… I really don't know what happened… Grr… Anyway, I think I fixed it! It happened to another fic I had posted up in another section, so… Yeah. I think I fixed it!  
  
I never thought I'd do this. Never in my life… ladada yup singing the song…. gonna get sued... well all they're gonna get are debts…. mmm hmmm…. anyhow….  
  
  
  
I woke up.   
  
Good GOD!   
  
It was summer. It was hot.   
  
I glanced at my clock.   
  
It was also too damn early.   
  
The sounds of barking dogs, and annoying, loud, loud, LOUD voice outside singing something that couldn't be processed at the moment, reached my ears.   
I groaned.   
  
"Shut up! All of you!" I yelled. Of course, since no one listens to me (and the fact that I was lying face-down with a pillow over my head), the singing and the barking continued.   
  
"Oh dear GOD is there no mercy?" I muttered to myself, as I kicked myself out of bed. If there was no possible chance of sleeping late, I might as well get breakfast.   
  
I shuffled to the kitchen, groggy. I nearly tripped over my terriers, Cozmo and Specks, who were barking up a storm, as my mother would say.   
  
"Dumb mutts," I said to myself, as I pulled open the fridge.   
  
Great. Nothing in the house to eat, except for those Gogurt things. I sighed. Oh well. At least it was food. Maybe.   
  
As I attempted to open the damned thing I noticed a note on the fridge door:   
  
"SLEEPY-HEAD dropped Carrie off at camp went to work call mom when you wake up DAD."  
  
Sigh. Typical working parents. As if there was anyone else to write the note to?   
  
I ignored the note and rubbed my temples. Did these dogs EVER shut up? And that stupid person outside did NOT help matters considerably.   
  
Sucking on my Gogurt (how come that doesn't sound too right?), I peeked out my window, wondering what the world these mutts of mine were making such a fuss about.   
  
All I saw was a ragged, scrawny kid fooling around in the street, skipping around and singing at the top of his lungs. I figured he must live down the street or something. I thought I recognized the song, but that was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment.   
  
"Hey KID!" I opened the window. The little boy paused, then looked at me with wide brown eyes. He looked around him, then back at me, surprised.   
  
"Yes, I'm talking to you, child! You don't see anyone else making a riot this early in the morning, do you?"  
  
Suddenly the kid looked confused. I sighed with aggravation. I was tired, and cranky, and hungry. I did NOT need this!   
  
"Listen, you! Do you hear this?" I picked up Specks, the lighter of the two, and held him so the idiotic child could see the ruckus he was causing.   
  
"And that's the least of my problems, there's another one just like him right here! So if you don't mind, my day has started out bad enough, PLEASE if you have any mercy in your soul, SHUT UP!"  
  
I put Specks down and closed the window, muttering to myself something about kids these days. I finished my Gogurt while reading fanfiction.   
  
There was one problem.   
  
My dogs did not stop.   
  
"Good GOD what is wrong with you two today?" I wondered as I ruffled Cozmo's fur.   
That's when I heard the knock at my door. Bewildered, I peeked out my window to see the afore-mentioned kid, waiting on my porch, hopping from one leg to the other. I banged my head on the windowsill.   
  
"Kid! Go away!"  
  
The kid blinked, puzzled, then leaned in to the window: "You can see me?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Wow. Yes. Yes, I can see you, and I wish I wouldn't! What do you think you're doing out here in this ungodly hour?"  
  
At this the boy laughed. "Mam'zelle, it's eleven o'clock in the morning. Of course, I wouldn't know what a godly hour looks like, so how can I tell the difference?"   
  
I groaned. "Don't play smart-aleck with me, please, my mind can't comprehend."   
  
Suddenly I became more confused than usual. "Wait, what did you call me?"  
  
"Mam'zelle. See, I don't know your name."   
  
"So you don't. But why would you call me 'Mam'zelle?'"  
  
The kid shrugged. "Because. I don't think you're a 'M'sieur,' are you? It would prolly make much more sense if you were. Are you a 'Madame?' Nah, too young. Not married. Or are you? I'm afraid I haven't paid too much attention to this house, but I have fun playing with your dogs. Did I compliment you just now? Sorry. I'll do better next time," he said with a grin.   
  
"Listen, you're making no sense, so, just, just leave, alright? What do you want from me?"  
  
"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure that you can see me, 'cuz, y'know, that doesn't happen everyday. Oh, can I play with your dogs?"  
  
"What?" Why must this nuisance continue to bother me? "  
  
Can I come in and play with your dogs? If you don't let me, I'll get you back for it."  
  
"Was that a threat, child?"  
  
"Prolly."   
  
"Why should I let you in?"   
  
"So I can play with your dogs! Boy, must I repeat everything?"  
  
"Will it shut you up?"   
  
"Maybe."   
  
"Will it shut them up?"  
  
"Most definitely. They're my friends."  
  
"Your friends."   
  
"Yeh. You got a problem with that?"  
  
It took me about two nanoseconds to decide.   
  
"Come in," I said as I opened the door.   
  
So I let a perfect stranger into my house, defying most, if not all, of the rules my mother drills into my head before she goes anywhere, leaving me alone.   
  
What? The kid WANTED to come in. And he WAS a kid.   
  
Anything to shut these mutts up.   
  
"Hullo Cozmo, hullo Speckles!" he said, kneeling to pet my dogs. Amazingly, the barks turned to happy yaps as their tails smacked each other.   
  
Something bugged me.   
  
"I don't get you. I've never seen you around before, yet you know my dog's names. And you don't know mine?"  
  
"I told you, they're my friends. Normal people like you can't see me. So I mostly ignore them, they're no fun, unless I can give them a good scare, and that takes a lot of energy. I don't know why you can see me now."  
  
"Neither do I! 'Cuz, you know, MOST people CAN be seen. Unless you're blind."  
  
"And unless you're a ghost."  
  
I shook my head. This was confusing me.   
  
"Where do you live? Did you just move here or something?"  
  
At this the boy laughed. "Technically, girl, I don't live anywhere. I used to live, and in a giant elephant, too, but those days are over."  
  
"Right. Call me Ela."  
  
The boy grinned. "Right then; call me Gavroche."  
  
I laughed. "What, did your parents name you after Victor Hugo's?"   
  
Gavroche shook his head. "Nope. They didn't name me anything. I got my name from the streets. Cuz, y'know, I *am* Victor Hugo's."   
  
After this processed through my brain, I sighed and shook my head. "Yeah. Right. You are. Sure."   
  
"But I *am!* You obviously know about me. Ah, ask me a question only I would know."  
  
"What?"   
  
"Go ahead. Ask me."   
  
"This is dumb."   
  
"No it isn't!"   
  
"How old are you?"   
  
Gavroche sighed as he sat down on my carpet, next to my dogs.   
  
"Well, this is kinda hard. Technically, I'm 182, but I'm also 12."  
  
I rubbed my temples. This was going nowhere!   
  
"How old was Azelma?"   
  
"When? Cuz she was a lot of ages."  
  
Now I was confused. "Have you read the book, Les Misérables?"   
  
Gavroche sighed. "I *told* you, I don't need to read it; I *lived* it!"   
  
I groaned. "Okay, okay, let's say you did. You obviously know about Azelma, and possibly everyone else that was cut out of the musical. Of course, you could have gotten this info second hand, or at least went on the internet-"  
  
"But I *didn't!*"   
  
"Right. Cuz you lived it."  
  
"Yup."   
  
I sighed. "What word was cut off? At Gavroche's death scene."  
  
"Rousseau," Gavroche said proudly, without skipping a beat. "Of course, in the English version of the musical, it's 'up,' but I gotta say 'Rousseau' sounds cooler. Would *you* want your last living word to be 'up?'"  
  
I shook my head. "Either your family is pretty obsessed-"  
  
"Dear Ela, my family is long since dead."   
  
I sighed. "Alright then, who was Gavroche's best friend?"   
  
"Navet."   
  
I glared. "Lucky guess. Now, this answer *I* don't even know: what were the names of his little brothers?"  
  
Gavroche laughed. "First of all, if you don't know the answer, how can you check if I'm correct? And I don't know also; they never told me. I only spent one day with them, you know."   
  
"Aha!" I yelled aloud, proud of myself. "If you were really Gavroche as a ghost, you wouldn't have known what I was talking about; he didn't know that the two boys were his brothers."  
  
"Of course. They were my brats. But you know, I *have* been around for a while; I found out sooner or later. Especially since I overheard my father talking about them to Azelma, before they were kicked out to America."  
  
"Oh," I said, defeated. "You know, if I could do it all over again, I would."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Sure. Cuz being a ghost is fun!" Gavroche grinned.   
  
"Wait a minute. If you're a ghost, wouldn't you be able to walk through walls and stuff?"  
  
Gavroche shook his head. "Nope. It's all talk. I'm as solid as you. I'm just not alive."  
  
"Right..."  
  
"Left..."   
  
I sighed. "Alright. I give in. You're Gavroche."  
  
Gavroche pouted. "You don't believe me!" I shrugged.   
  
"Would you?"  
  
"Of course!"   
  
"Liar."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Gavroche sighed. "Wanna see where I was shot?"  
  
I perked up. This'd be interesting.   
  
"As long as it doesn't involve dropping your shorts, sure."  
  
The gamin had the nerve to stick out his tongue at me. "They're *breeches,* and no, it doesn't involve me dropping them."  
  
Then Gavroche stood up. "I was shot here first," he said, indicating his hip, "and then here," he said, pointing to his chest.   
  
"I knew it!" I yelled. Believe me, it was a dispute I'd had in my head for a long time.   
  
Gavroche looked at me weird. "You're a strange."  
  
I laughed. "What's it to you! Alright, you really convinced me now; you really are Gavroche. Do you know you're my fav?"  
  
Gavroche shook his head. "Are you one of those girls who obsesses a lot?"  
  
I nodded proudly.   
  
"And one of those who think I'm cute and adorable?"  
  
I nodded proudly.   
  
"And one who claims me to be their 'baby'?"  
  
I nodded proudly.   
  
"And one who—"  
  
"YES!" I yelled. "Yes, to all of it, okay! ALL OF IT!"  
  
"Oh great." Gavroche groaned.   
  
I laughed. "This is great! Gavroche right here in my home!"  
  
I suddenly bit my lip with thought. "Okay, so you're Gavroche, a ghost. Why the hell are you here in damned South Florida?"  
  
Gavroche shrugged. "I've been everywhere else. Why not here?"  
  
"Because it's boring."  
  
"Not for me."  
  
"Liar."  
  
Gavroche shrugged.   
  
"Prolly."  
  
Gavroche then, becoming bored, went back to playing with my dogs.   
  
"Hey Gav?"   
  
"Don't call me Gav," Gavroche responded.   
  
"Hey, *Gav.*"  
  
"I said!"  
  
"Gav! Gav! Gav!"  
  
"Now you're just being stupid."  
  
"Ah, yeah, I am."  
  
"Anyway, your question?"  
  
"Ah, I forgot it."  
  
Gavroche laughed as Specks nibbled at his hand.   
  
I concentrated (I wouldn't let that gamin get the best of me!), and eventually my question returned to me.   
  
"Hey, Gav... roche?"  
  
"Yeh?"  
  
"I remembered my question!"  
  
Gavroche turned to look at me, skeptical. "Well..."  
  
"How do you know English?"  
  
"I told you. I've been everywhere. I know a lot of languages now."  
  
I grinned. "Even German?"  
  
"Yeah. Somewhat. Why?"   
  
Then my dream came true: I huggled Gavroche.   
  
"This is GREAT! You can help me with my German homework! Can you believe it? They don't have French 4 in my school. I'm left with no other choice than to take *German.* Gaah it's HORRIBLE! Err, not that I *hate* German, it's just that I thought my friend Jamie would be in my class and it turns out that won't happen 'till next year if I take it again and THAT won't happen unless French 4 isn't available again."  
  
Meanwhile Gavroche struggled to release himself from my deathgrasp.   
  
"Can't... move…"  
  
"Eeep!" I exclaimed, letting go (somewhat reluctantly) of Gavroche, giggling uncontrollably.   
  
"Hey!" Gavroche cried. "Qui a dit que je vais rester ici?"  
  
I blanked. "What did you say?"   
  
"I thought you were supposed to be going into French 4?"  
  
"I should've. And you went too fast."  
  
"You need to practice. I said, who said I'm gonna stay here?"  
  
I saddened. "Oh. Yeah. Well, you're right, who am I to claim you as my own? That's selfish.... and all that crap. Yeah."  
  
Gavroche sighed. "'Sides, your family would think you belong in the bin."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"The loony bin."  
  
I laughed. "Gav, they already know I belong there! They just keep me around for the laughs. And to pick on me."  
  
"I said don't call me that."  
  
"I'll call you whatever I want, gamin!"  
  
Gavroche grinned. "Okay."  
  
"Okay what?"  
  
"I'll stay."  
  
"But that's selfish."  
  
"Ah who cares? 'Sides, being a ghost is fun. But also lonely."  
  
"Hmm." I mulled to myself. "A few conditions."  
  
Gavroche groaned. "What is it?"   
  
"No peeking. When I change or am in the shower, stuff like that."  
  
Gavroche made a face. "Eeew, gross! Why would I want to?"  
  
"Because, you're a guy."  
  
"And you're a girl. Maybe. What's that got to do with anything?"  
  
I glared at the gamin. "Nevermind. You'll never know."  
  
Gavroche just rolled his eyes. "Okay then, I might have a few conditions of my own; I can leave whenever I want to."  
  
I grinned. "Agreed. Come here you adorable loveable thing you!"  
  
"Gaaaah!" Gavroche yelled, running around the room, trying to escape me and my death huggle.   
  
"Come back here gamin!"  
  
"Momma!" 


End file.
